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The Critchfield Locket

Page 7

by Sheila M. Rogers


  “Thank you Margaret, for being so kind to me.” She pulled the girl into a hug. “I will miss you.”

  Mrs. Thompson arrived and helped Kate pack the few belongings she had. She escorted her down stairs and to the front door where Nicholas was waiting. A slight nod of his head sent all the staff members scurrying away. “Before you go, might you take a turn about the garden with me?”

  “I would like that.” Kate placed her hand through his arm as they traveled in silence. When they neared a bench, he guided her to take a seat before sitting down as well.

  “Katherine, over the last few weeks, I have come to feel things that I had thought were no longer possible for me. I know that you must return home, but I would be remiss if I did not declare myself to you first. I am not sure of when my feelings began to change, but change they have, for I now find myself in love.” He took her hands in his, kissed one, then the other. “Katherine, I love you. Do you think that in time, you may one day return my affections?”

  Kate took a moment before she answered. “Nicholas, I don’t know what to say. I had dared to hope that you felt the same as I do, but it seemed foolish to do so. We barely know each other.”

  “Yet I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “And I you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. “I have something for you.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a square wood box made of cherry wood and handed it to her.

  Excited, Kate opened the box and found a locket inside. Though beautiful, it wasn’t what she had expected. She looked at him as he got up, taking the locket from the box. When he secured it around her neck, he told her this was an early wedding present, that he would get her an engagement ring soon. He then instructed her to open the locket. Kate enthusiastically slid her thumbnail into the crevice and pushed it open.

  Kate felt a little lightheaded as tears slowly slid down her cheeks. A hand gently squeezed her arm. “Miss, are you OK?”

  Kate opened her eyes and found herself looking into the eyes of an older woman. Wait, I know this woman… she’s the shopkeeper. Sensing something in her hands, she lowered her gaze and saw the opened locket. “I’m fine, I just…” she shook her head as if to clear it. “I guess I must have gotten a little caught up in your story behind this locket.” She took a deep breath and tried to clear her thoughts as the shopkeeper smiled and rang her sale through the register.

  The bell on the shop door jingled as a man made his way to where the women were standing. Kate was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice him until he began to speak. Something about his voice seemed familiar to her. “Good afternoon, Ma’am. I’m hoping you can help me. I’m looking for a piece you recently purchased at an estate auction. It’s a locket with…” His words trailed away as Kate held out her hands towards him. He looked at the locket then turned his eyes to her face. When their eyes met, they stood motionless for a few moments. Kate broke the spell by placing the locket in his hands.

  “This is it, this is the one.”

  The shopkeeper looked him up and down. “What did you say your name is?”

  “I didn’t, I apologize. I am Nicholas Critchfield. This locket has been in my family for generations. It was never supposed to go to auction.” His eyes pleaded with the shopkeeper to understand.

  Kate gripped the counter for support, her knees threatening to buckle under her. What is going on?

  “Are you OK?” Genuine concern flashed across his face.

  “Yes, thank you. I just need to get some air.” Kate turned and left the shop.

  Nicholas paid the shopkeeper for the locket despite her protests that he didn’t need to. He made his way out of the shop and spotted her walking down the sidewalk towards a cafe. He quickened his pace to catch up to her. “Hey, um, can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

  Kate stopped and looked between him and the café. Releasing the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, she nodded her head. “I’d like that. By the way, my name is Katherine Dickson, but friends call me Kate.”

  “Nice to meet you Kate and please, call me Nick.”

  About the Author

  Sheila Rogers left the business world of accounting to pursue her artistic passions. She is an avid reader, a writer, a digital designer, a video game enthusiast, and a lover of photography. After spending most of her life in Florida, she now resides in Chicago with her husband, daughter, and one very spoiled cat. You can contact her through her blog at: http://sheilamrogers.blogspot.com/

 

 

 


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